


Baby Mine

by IronPengu



Category: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Baby Peter Parker, Fluff, Gen, Lullabies, M/M, SteveTony, Stony - Freeform, Superfamily (Marvel), Superhusbands (Marvel)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-10-02 11:05:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17263094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IronPengu/pseuds/IronPengu
Summary: Steve Rogers never thought he could have a domestic life, what with being Captain America. But, now he has it. He’s married to his lovely husband, Tony Stark, and- if that wasn’t enough- He’s now a father.





	Baby Mine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [parkrstark](https://archiveofourown.org/users/parkrstark/gifts).



Being a father was something that Steve Rogers surely didn’t imagine himself doing. But he was- well, a ‘Pops’ to be more accurate, at least that’s the nickname that his husband had given him ever since they adopted their little bundle of joy.  
It was Tony’s idea. Despite his sassy, blunt exterior, he was soft and gentle. He loved holding that baby in his arms, just holding him. The baby found the glow from his arc reactor quite fascinating- and to be honest, so did Steve.  
Steve often paused in the nursery doorway, simply watching Tony coo softly to the baby as he swayed around the room in utter bliss. The bundle of joy’s hands reaching up to his dad, causing Tony to lift the baby up to press a kiss to one of his chubby cheeks. Steve found that one of his favorite sounds was the baby’s laughter that would ensue.  
That bundle of joy was a little boy. His name was Peter. Tony was already putty in Peter’s tiny little hands. He’d already grown rather protective of the child and started taking extra precautions to make sure he was 110% safe.  
Steve was still trying to get a grasp of the whole “father” deal. Tony volunteered at hospitals occasionally to help out with the infants, just holding them and such. Steve assumed this is where Tony learned- or perhaps some mystical instinct. However, Steve did his part. Whatever Tony asked him to help with, Steve was sure to do his darnedest to help out the best he could. He wanted to be a good father, he really did.  
Being a father wasn’t... too hard. Well, the good times made up for the sleepless nights and fussy moments. Like when he’d lay on the floor with Peter and play with him. Steve often found himself chatting with Peter too, but it was more like responding to Peter’s babbles with “Oh yeah?” or “You don’t say?” or even “What happened next, Pete?” Napping was also a fun past time. Peter was essentially just a very happy-go-lucky natured baby.

But sleepless nights came and they came often. Like tonight. Steve awoke to the sound of the baby’s cries next door to their bedroom. He felt Tony start to stir next to him, but he insisted he’d go check on Peter.  
Steve stood and trudged his way to the nursery, yawning widely and rubbing his eyes to fully wake himself. He paused next to crib and scooped up the crying baby in his arms. He held the poor child close and hushed his sobs, rocking him gently.  
Tony often woke up- or was already awake from working in the lab- to care for Peter in the night and he’d tell Steve that more often than not, Pete just needed a bottle and he would be satisfied. So, guess what Steve did.  
Just like Tony said, Peter was satisfied. Steve set down the empty bottle on a nearby end table and sat down in a rocking chair nestled in the corner of the nursery.  
Peter was calmed down and much more subdued than the crying baby Steve was greeted to prior. He had big brown eyes, just like his dad’s, Steve observed. Those big eyes stared up at him as he rocked back and forth in the chair.  
Steve felt a smile tug at his lips and something sweet and lovely tug at his heartstrings as he stared down at his son.  
As much as Steve would’ve loved to stare at those eyes so pure and full of childlike wonder, the poor baby needed his sleep.  
Steve began to quietly hum, holding Peter nestled close to his chest. 

“Baby mine, don’t you cry,” Steve sang. A familiar tune from the lovely Disney movie, Dumbo.

“Baby mine, dry your eyes.”

Being a father wasn’t something Steve Rogers could ever envision himself doing, but here he was. He vowed to be the best father he could be for his son- this small baby cradled in his arms, protected from the world.

“Rest your head close to my heart, never to part, baby of mine.”

Steve felt a pang in his heart. He knew that even years later, he’d still look at his son and remember those big eyes. This moment. He knew that even when this boy will grow and be a man of his own, Steve will still look at him and see this baby. This baby, whose eyes began to shut and mouth widened in a soft yawn, snuggling close to his Pops’ chest.

“Little one, when you play, don’t you mind what they say.”

Steve knew he couldn’t always be there to protect Peter. Peter would have to face things on his own and learn from experiences life will throw at him. Steve just hoped that life would be kind to his baby boy.

“Let those eyes sparkle and shine, never a tear, baby of mine.”

Steve didn’t know what the future held. He hoped he could be the father he would strive to be for Peter. He hoped Peter would love him just as much as he loved his son.

“If they knew sweet, little you, they’d end up loving you too.”

Steve didn’t know who Peter would become, but he knew that, no matter what, he’d love him for it. He’d love his baby unconditionally.

“All those same people who scold you, what they’d give just for the right to hold you.”

By now, Peter was quietly snoozing, his hands lightly holding onto the fabric of his Pops’ shirt. His quiet breaths sounding in a smooth, gentle rhythm. 

“From your head down to your toes, you’re not much, goodness knows.”

Steve took in how much of a beautiful baby Peter was. Aside from those big, brown eyes, he had the sweetest little smile, the most precious set of big elephant ears, and the cutest little button nose that scrunched up when he giggled- just like his Dad’s nose did.

“But you’re so precious to me, sweet as can be, baby of mine.”

Even now, in his sleep, Peter was the definition of purity in Steve’s book. The way his eyelids fluttered as he dreamed, the subtle hint of a smile on Peter’s mouth that suckled on his thumb as his other hand still held onto Steve’s shirt. Even the way he’d occasionally nestle closer, pressing his ear against his Pops’ chest to hear that heartbeat.

“If they knew, sweet little you, they’d end up loving you too.”

Steve lifted a hand to brush his fingers across the baby’s cheek, causing Peter’s smile to widen. He couldn’t get over just how small and fragile Peter was. Steve felt the need to be extra careful with him, like he’d break him if he hugged to hard- which was a plausible concern to him. He was almost hesitant at first when Tony offered the baby to him to hold. Even now, Steve continues to cradle him with such tenderness.

“All those same people who scold you, what they’d give just for the right to hold you.”

Steve didn’t exactly have the best role model on how to be a father, but here he was. It was a blessing. He never thought he’d even get this chance- never mind the chance to have the domestic life with his husband, but here they were. They balanced their lives as best they could from their “hero duties” and Steve would say they were doing a pretty good job at it.

“From your head down to your toes, you’re not much, goodness knows.”

It was that sense of “we made it” that soothed Steve’s nerves. Yes, he was pretty stressed about being a good father, but he had that support and similar sense of understanding from his husband. Steve counted his blessings each and every day, now this was just one more thing to be thankful for: this little bundle of joy.

“But you’re so precious to me, sweet as can be, baby of mine.”

Steve was feeling the lull of sleep egging at him. The words he sang left his lips soft  
and slow...

“Baby... of mine...”

***  
The next morning, Tony walked into the nursery to see his husband still asleep in that rocking chair with their son in his arms. He leaned against the doorway, grinning at the sight of his boys sleeping peacefully. His boys... his family.

**Author's Note:**

> This was actually my first ever post to this platform and it’s pretty unnerving to have it out there, but here we go!


End file.
